


Reflection

by PetitMinou



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Body Dysphoria, F/M, Post Twilight of the Apprentice, This is vent fic don't mind me, Trans Ezra Bridger, Trans Male Character, Unrequited Crush, no happy ending, pre steps into shadow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26786890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetitMinou/pseuds/PetitMinou
Summary: In the aftermath of Twilight of the Apprentice Ezra struggles with himself, and his relationships with the rest of the Ghost crew.
Relationships: Ezra Bridger/Sabine Wren
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> This is 100% pure self-indulgent vent fic. Don't mind me. Warnings for descriptions of body dysphoria. Also, I absolutely headcanon Ezra as trans in any and all of my fics. Whether it comes up directly it's always in the back of my mind.

It’s been a while since he looked—really _looked_ —at himself.Ezra squints at his reflection in the mirror, turning this way and that.Something about his body is _off_ , is coiling heavy in the pit of his stomach and bitter at the back of his throat.

He’s a bit taller—he’d known that already—and it seems like his shoulders might be a bit broader.Both of those are good things, though.A few seconds of inspection determine that it’s not his bare chest, even if he still feels a bit disgusted looking at it.That will be taken care of, all he has to do is ask and one of the base surgeons will do it, Hera will let him have a couple weeks to recover, he’s just not quite ready yet…

He leans forward, scowling at the mirror.The problem is definitely his hair.It’s grown out, almost brushing his shoulders.Normally Sabine helps him keep it under control, but she hasn’t been around much lately, has she?

None of them have.

Doesn’t matter.He doesn’t need her.If anything, _he’d_ been indulging _her_ , accepting her help before.

But something has to be done about the hair.It’s too long, too feminine, and absolutely the source of his discomfort.He gathers a handful of it at the nape of his neck, turning his head to inspect the makeshift ponytail—and his heart gives a sick thud against his ribs.

Kanan’s hair has been growing out lately, but if he cut it back to his old style…

Nope.

He almost breaks the magnetic cabinet door, wrenching it open.He knows from unfortunate experience that his hair is far too thick for clippers, so he goes straight for the wicked-sharp scissors instead.

After a few incredibly cathartic minutes the sink is full of black locks and he looks a bit like he’d stuck his head in a podracer engine.He snarls at the mirror, frustrated, and works more slowly as he tries to even out the erratic cuts.

No good, every time he thinks he has it he accidentally cuts a section too short and then he has to start all over again.Inch by inch it’s getting shorter, but it still doesn’t look _right_.

He hates it.He hates that he can see tears starting up in his reflection’s eyes more.

Zeb knocks on the door at some point, but leaves when Ezra shouts at him to _go away._ Hera turns up a few minutes later, exhaustion and worry plain in her voice even through the door.He wavers for a second, guilt flashing through him.She shouldn’t have to deal with him, not with everything else, not with Kanan…

“I’m fine,” he tells her, just loud enough to be heard.“Leave me alone.Please.”She doesn’t respond.Of course not.He knows she blames him for what happened to Kanan.Rightly so, so he can’t really fault her there.He accidentally meets his own eyes in the mirror, red and overflowing now, and looks away.

He’s still struggling with the scissors when there’s a brief scuffle outside the door, a faint beep from the lock, and it slides open.

“Hey!”It’s sheer luck that he doesn’t stab himself, arms instinctively coming up over his chest as he spins to confront the intruder.

Sabine steps forward just enough for the door to shut behind her, arms crossed as she takes in the damage he’s done.He’s frozen, torn between mortification and something else that he can’t put a name to.Whatever it is, it holds him in place as she approaches him slowly, tilting her head, eyes fixed on the mess of his hair.

Finally she sighs, turning to the cabinet and pulling out her clippers.“Well, it’s not the biggest disaster I’ve had to fix, but it’s definitely up there.You’re going to have a really short style after this, I hope you know.”

The matter of fact acceptance is what disarms him.He obeys when she turns him around, eyes closing as she starts brushing away the trimmings that cling to the rest of his hair.

She works quickly but thoroughly, retrieving the scissors from his unresisting grasp to cut any wayward locks back to a manageable length.Ezra’s eyes snap open the first time she touches his face, a single finger turning his head from side to side as she assesses her handiwork.

He’d always known how pretty her eyes are—they’re such an unusual color, breathtakingly intense when her full focus is turned on him.Right now she leans in close enough that her breath is warm on the side of his neck, and she _must_ notice the shiver that runs through him.

If she does she gives no sign of it, a small pleased smile dancing across her lips as she lays down the scissors, turning her attention to the clippers.The buzzing starts at the base of his skull, somehow soothing as she guides them up and around his head.Slowly, cautiously, Ezra lets his arms fall.He expects it to feel awkward, this reminder that his body is _wrong_ , but somehow it doesn’t.Sabine barely glances down before returning to her task, as if everything were totally normal about the situation, and warmth surges up around his quick-beating heart.

“You’re worrying Hera, you know,” Sabine says conversationally, and that snaps his full attention back to her.Of course, of course she’s only in here because Hera’s worried.The feeling that chokes him isn’t quite jealousy, isn’t quite loneliness, but it’s something like them both.She hadn’t come for _him_ , none of them ever did, it was only about how _effective_ the crew is as a whole—

Sabine crosses her arms, leans back, and stares him in the face.“Hey.You’re worrying all of us, kid.I’m just…I’m not very good at this, but if you ever want to talk, I’m here to listen.Okay?”

…Oh.

Her eyes are wide, softer than he’s ever seen them.In that moment he really believes her.He _wants_ to talk to her, tell her everything, about the guilt and fear and pressure and everything he’s been holding in since Malachor.More than that even, he wants to touch her.Wants to so _badly_ it feels like a physical ache in his chest.

She doesn’t move when he takes a step toward her, though her focus clearly shifts.Wary, but willing to wait to see what he’s going to do.His heart is now thudding painfully against his ribs, in his throat, and it only gets worse when he steps forward again.She’s inches away now, close enough that he has to look down to meet her gaze.

“Sabine, I…” What?What does he even want to say?Nothing he can think of quite conveys how he feels.Well, if he can’t say it, he can show her.He leans down, slowly, deeply aware of what he’s doing and that there’s no going back from this.Her lips look soft, slightly parted, just so—

Sabine steps to the side, tucking her head so he can’t see her face.“No, Ezra.”

He goes from slightly-sweaty warmth to stinging cold in a split second, the feeling of everything crashing down around him returning in a rush.For a brief, horribly instant he’s tempted to grab her, to kiss her anyway, to _make_ her understand how he feels.Then the urge passes, and he’s just left feeling sick to his stomach in its wake.He stumbles back away from her, curling in on himself, unable even to make an excuse.

She doesn’t look at him as she leaves, walking silently around him and slipping out the door without letting it open all the way.

Would it have been better, if she’d said something more?If she’d given him a reason, or apologized?The voice in the back of his mind, the one that usually sounds a lot like Hera, reminds him that she has nothing to apologize _for_.He’d put his feelings out there, and she clearly didn’t feel the same way.It’s not actually her fault.

But now the shaky crash of the adrenaline, the self doubt, the rejection, all of it is coiling up inside him in a painful knot.It’s not her fault, but the hurt is swiftly morphing into anger, and he’s definitely going to blame _somebody._

He stares at the floor, shaking, letting the rage swell and howl in his senses.And when he looks up he sees the perfect target.His ears pop as the pressure in the small room shifts, as the Force responds to his hatred in a heavy wave, power at his beck and call.He grasps at it, revels in it’s wildness, and lashes out—

* * *

Hera doesn’t ask about the shattered mirror.No one on the ship comments on it at all.It’s not like there are many things in the galaxy that could break silvered transparisteel into a hundred tiny pieces.Ezra winds up making a special request to the quartermasters, working off the expense by running their errands around the base, and a new one is quietly installed in the _Ghost_ ’s refresher by the next week.

Sabine never brings up the incident, but he can see the way she looks at him.It’s not pity, it would be much easier to deal with pity.Instead she looks constantly worried, more so with each passing day that he avoids talking to her.

He’s not sure what Kanan thinks.If he’s not in his room or with the medics, he’s out communing with Atollon’s wildlife.Come to think of it, Ezra’s not sure Kanan even noticed anything.

Which leaves him utterly alone, disconnected from everyone and unsure how to fix any of it.So the next time he’s left alone on the ship, without Zeb snoring on the bottom bunk, he picks up the Sith holocron again.For the first time since he’d opened it, in those terrible few hours right after everything changed forever, he lets it whisper to him

And this time, he listens.


End file.
